Lament of a Snowman Options

[Charon]

First revision, with a little help from my friends.  Thanks a bunch.



Lament of a Snowman

Born only yesterday, my destiny to fulfill,
powerful and stately, I stand on my hill.
Always dependable, I would never stray,
protector of my home; at guard every day.

Greeting everyone, a smile on my face,
eyes black as coal, steady is my gaze.
Though the cold wind blows I suffer no chill,
when the snows come, I envision a thrill.

I am a tower of strength; a joyful beacon to all,
sun caresses my brow as it answers my call.
Heavy rays beat down, hard on my head,
suddenly I contemplate a sense of dread.

My kingdom lies before me, a tapestry of white,
where did it come from, this dazzling light?
A balmy breeze plays across my loin and chest,
is the ground closer, why do I need rest?

My arms droop so; a scarf falls from my neck,
how can it be; buttons falling; I must look a wreck.
My bonnet once clean, now covered in mud,
my hat, my cover, has fallen with a thud.

I’ve discovered I’ve lost all of my clothes,
as I try to pick up my poor little nose.
My arm has become an old broken stick,
I think I shall be, terribly sick.

To be an enemy of the sun
what could I have done?
For me to be treated so
is really a blow.
A King was I,
but now all
I have
is my
final
sigh
.

---------------- First Version -------------

Lament of a Snowman

Born only yesterday, my destiny I’ll fulfill,
powerful and stately, standing on my hill.
Always dependable, I would never stray,
protector of my home; at guard every day.

Greeting everyone with a smile on my face,
eyes black as coal, steady is my gaze.
Though the cold wind blows I suffer no chill,
when the snows come, I envision a thrill.

I am a tower of strength; a joyful beacon to all,
sun caresses my brow as it answers my call.
Heavy rays beat down, hard on my head,
suddenly I contemplate a sense of dread.

My kingdom lies before me, a tapestry of white,
where did it come from, this dazzling light?
A balmy breeze plays across my loin and chest,
is the ground closer, why do I need to rest?

Why my arm droops so; my scarf falls from my neck,
how can it be; buttons falling; I must look a wreck.
My bonnet once so clean, now covered in mud,
my hat, my cover, has fallen with a thud.

I’ve discovered I’ve lost all of my clothes,
as I try to pick up my poor little nose.
My arm has become an old stick,
I think I shall be very sick.

To be an enemy of the sun
what could I have done?
For me to be treated so
is really a blow.
A King was I,
but now all
I have
is my
final
sigh
.


© 2003 Emerson H. Sollars
All rights reserved by Emerson H. Sollars as an unpublished work.

[Guest_Zeus²_*]

Butch,
how often must I
tell you that its' not the melting,
but the heat of the
sun.
You should always
use a good
sun block  with a
high number when
creating the snow  man/woman.  

other than that, a delightful piece.
Larry